


Rodillas Al Piso

by smoothsailing



Series: Chit Happens [2]
Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, yoga i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 15:56:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21580174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoothsailing/pseuds/smoothsailing
Summary: It doesn't seem as though Rafa's dropping yoga anytime soon.Roger doesn't mind. He'll drop to his knees instead.
Relationships: Roger Federer/Rafael Nadal
Series: Chit Happens [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555249
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	Rodillas Al Piso

**Author's Note:**

> the title directly translates from Spanish to "knees to the floor"
> 
> also i am not ashamed that i've turned this into a series

They don’t talk about it, what happened the last time Roger walked in on Rafa doing hippie stretches - _yoga_ , he’s since learned, which… what? Who even does that, for real? But they also don’t start locking their hotel room doors at night.

It’s been a couple of weeks, though, and every time Roger has innocently wandered into Rafa’s hotel room since then, he’s been doing mundane shit - watching TV in his underwear, brushing his teeth in his underwear, stretching in his underwear… Granted, that last one was a nicer-than-usual sight to walk in on, but still. Mundane. The weird mat - _yoga mat_ , Rafa has a goddamn _yoga mat_ , that he takes with him on tour; the mind boggles – hasn’t even been out or wasn’t brought along. Wherever it was, Roger couldn’t find it in his snooping.

Until Roger wanders over into Rafa’s room, expecting more of the same boring-but-not shit, and instead sees Rafa on the floor, yoga mat spread out over the carpet. He’s on his knees, arched backwards so that his elbows are on the ground behind his feet, torso stretched obscenely. Roger can’t see Rafa’s face, because he’s positioned with his knees closest to where Roger stands, frozen in the doorway, but even if his face was visible, there is no way Roger would be paying it any attention because Rafa’s dick is _right there_.

He’s wearing light blue boxers this time, the pale colour a stark difference from the still-fading tan on his thighs and stomach. They’re strained across his dick, though, and it’s getting thicker the longer Roger watches. He can see the way it curves slightly up from where it’s tucked to the right.

Rafa inhales, his ribcage expanding, his body shifting slightly, and then exhales, slow, slow, thighs spreading just a bit wider as he does, his hips lifting until his pelvis and thighs are almost ninety degrees from the floor. Roger’s mouth waters.

Roger’s mouth waters, and Rafa’s dick is _right there_.

He wants to pounce, wants to bury his face in the space between Rafa’s thighs like he did to Rafa’s ass last time, wants to lick and suck, and maybe actually pull the underwear down this time, get his mouth on skin, find out what Rafa tastes like without any barriers. He wants to see if Rafa can hold the pose the entire time, the way he couldn’t last time, collapsing down at the end. Wants to see if Rafa can keep his arms back, holding his body up even while Roger sucks his dick, if he can resist the urge to grab Roger’s hair, hold him down and thrust, fuck his mouth until he comes.

He wants all of those things, but instead, he waits, leaning back against the door, not saying anything. Rafa wasn’t hard before Roger came in, and it’s not the yoga that turns him on. It’s a mixture of Roger himself and being watched, and Roger always knew that Rafa had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, but this is ridiculous.

The lighting is low, with only the bedside lamps casting a glow, but Rafa has moved one closer, to the side. It’s artfully lighting up his body, putting it on display, letting Roger see everything. Rafa’s dick is lit up, the fucking centrepiece of the tableau of his contorted body, and it’s almost fully hard, it must be, so thick, and Roger can already see a small damp patch right at the head.

Rafa inhales, his hips pulling up along with his ribs, and Roger palms his dick through his boxers idly. There’s no way that Rafa knows what Roger’s doing with the way he’s facing away from him, but that just makes it better. He knows Roger is there, knows he’s looking at Rafa, but he could be doing _anything_ , and Rafa wouldn’t know unless Roger wanted him to.

He steps forward, still cupping his dick, softly rubbing, and Rafa exhales, relaxing just a touch, but Roger can see the lines of tension in his shoulder and thighs. They inhale together, and Roger takes another step forward, slow, deliberate, and heavy. He rubs at his dick more and glances back down at Rafa’s body, right in front of him now, sees the small, aborted hip thrust he tries to make. He doesn’t have enough leverage to move much, his body already strained, but it’s still visible, and Roger can feel how precum is beading up on the tip of his dick, soaking into his boxers.

God, he wants. And Rafa knows it, is getting off on it, on how much Roger wants and the way Roger is just _looking_ , and if Roger had more self-discipline he would stay where he is, pull out his cock and start jerking off slow and steady while Rafa waited and shook. He’d see if Rafa could come untouched, without anything against his dick again, or if he needs more. But Roger doesn’t have that kind of control, can’t in the face of Rafa looking so hot and ready for him, putting himself on display just for Roger to see, to taste, to take.

He doesn’t have that control, so he takes a step closer, another, and another, before dropping to his knees right in front of Rafa. All he can see is Rafa’s strong, thick thighs, the sharp outline of his cock, the damp patch on his boxer briefs from precum, the long stretch of his stomach. Roger wants to taste every inch of him. He wants to dig his nails in and leave angry red lines on his abs. He wants to devour Rafa, wants to consume him, wants to dive inside of him and never come out again.

All he does is lean down, though, putting his mouth closer and closer to Rafa’s dick, and thinks about how Rafa can’t even see him, can only guess at what Roger’s going to do next. Maybe Roger’s going to bite at Rafa’s hips. Maybe he’s going to mouth at Rafa’s balls, suck on them through the cotton. Maybe he’s going to just kneel here and jerk off until he comes all over Rafa’s cotton-covered dick. Rafa wouldn’t know, not until it was happening, wouldn’t be able to brace himself. He presses his face right beside where Rafa’s dick is wetting his boxer briefs, inhaling the strong, musky scent, and licks softly at the head.

The taste of Rafa _explodes_ across his tongue.

He can’t get enough. He was just going to tease, was just going to work Rafa up, nice and light and barely there, but that _taste. Rafa’s_ taste. He just - he can’t hold back.

He can’t hold back, doesn’t even want to, now, he needs more. He needs to get his mouth on Rafa’s skin, needs to feel Rafa on his tongue, the silky softness of his skin, his hard dick. He wants to suck the cum right out of Rafa, swallow down everything Rafa can give him, push him until he can’t give any more. He wants to make Rafa tremble and shake, wants to really test his control, make him work to hold the pose.

Roger hooks his thumbs in Rafa’s boxer briefs, his fingers brushing against Rafa’s stomach, his hips. He pulls the fabric down, makes sure it drags over Rafa’s dick, just to hear the hitch in his breath, to see the way Rafa’s abs twitch. It’s fucking intoxicating.

Rafa’s dick is revealed, inch by inch, and it’s perfect. It’s everything Roger wants, and he’s done waiting, has been done for ages now. He’s got his mouth on the head, sucking and licking, before Rafa’s boxers are even all the way down, hooked under his balls. And god, Rafa tastes so fucking good. Roger knows he’ll never get enough of it, not the taste, not the weight in his mouth, not the way Rafa’s body is stretched out, on display just for him.

He keeps mouthing at the head, practically drooling, and Rafa is moaning nonstop. Roger has never felt more powerful. He takes in more, wraps his hands tightly around Rafa’s hips, just drinks in the sound and scent of him, and he loves every moment of this. He’d hold off, just tease for longer, but he wants to see how much he can take, how far he can push Rafa. He wants to see what it takes to make Rafa break, what he has to do, how far he has to go.

He goes down, all the way, Rafa’s dick already sloppy wet with spit, and the slide down is easy until he gets to the back of his throat. He pulls up, works his tongue on the underside, relishes in how Rafa can’t seem to make his thighs stop shaking, can’t hold back the noises spilling from his lips. Roger works Rafa’s dick, messy and enthusiastic, and reaches down to cup Rafa’s balls, and Rafa fucking _whimpers_.

His knees are sore, his back arched awkwardly, but Roger never wants to move from this position. He never wants to stop touching Rafa, feeling the soft skin of his drawn-up balls and the hard angle of his hips, never wants to stop pulling those noises from him, like he’d die if Roger stopped.

He doesn’t want to stop, but God, he wants to get off, and he can’t until Rafa does.

He doesn’t even know why he can’t, just knows that he _needs_ to see Rafa come undone, needs to make him lose it, lose control. He tightens his lips around Rafa’s cock, sucks and slurps at the hard, hot weight in his mouth, groaning at the thought of Rafa - of Rafa coming in his _mouth_ and on his _face_ , and not being able to see him, but _knowing_ what Roger was doing, wanting it, _presenting himself_ for it. He takes Rafa down, and down, tongue rubbing against the thick vein on the underside of Rafa’s cock, and he must sound so _desperate_ for it, all wet slurping and deep moans, and Rafa’s shaking, making little _ugh, ugh, ugh_ noises, and then -

He’s not expecting it, somehow, but Rafa arches, thrusts his hips, his entire body, towards Roger, and he’s coming, the taste flooding Roger’s mouth, faster than he can swallow, spilling out across his lips, down his chin. It’s so good, and Rafa is making the _stupidest_ noises, and it’s so fucking hot.

He pulls back a little, still sucking lightly, savouring the taste, and Rafa can’t stop trembling, tiny aborted muscle spasms as Roger gives a last small lick across the head of his dick.

"Best you can do, Rogi?" Rafa says, and his voice is heavy and slow and wrecked from his orgasm, but fuck. Fuck if that doesn't just send a bolt of pleasure lancing down Roger's spine, settling in his dick.

He sits up straight, the taste of Rafa still in his mouth, on his lips, the smell of Rafa’s come surrounding him, and pushes his boxers down. Roger moans at the feeling of his dick finally being freed from his underwear, and wipes at where Rafa’s come spilled out of his mouth, trickled down his chin. He gathers it in his fingers, staring down at Rafa’s flushed and sweaty torso, and wraps his hand around his dick, massaging the come in, slicking the way.

He jerks off, hard and fast - he’s not going to last long, doesn’t even want to, and Rafa is still laid out before him like a fucking _feast_. Roger licks his lips, tasting Rafa all over again, and braces himself, one hand clenched around Rafa’s hip, the other working his cock, and he’s going to come, he’s going to come all over Rafa’s spent dick, mark him up and claim him, he’s going to -

Fuck.

Fuck. He watches, completely enraptured, as strips of his come land on Rafa’s balls, his hips, his cock. Rafa twitches, and Roger can’t help but take his hand off his own dick, wrap it softly around Rafa’s and slowly jerk him off with the come Roger put there.

Rafa groans, pain and pleasure mixed into the sound, and collapses to the side, curling protectively over his cock.

“I’m just getting started,” Roger finally says, voice so raspy and shot that it comes out more like a growl.

He can just see the way that the corner of Rafa’s mouth curls up in satisfaction before he lets himself fall backwards onto the floor.

They breathe in together.

They breathe out.

It’s a good start.


End file.
